The Long Road Ahead
by magic-carpet
Summary: After Ryan is fired from the lab, he struggles to understand what comes next, and with a little help, faces the long road ahead. CaRWash, oneshot


Author: Lilly

Title: The Long Road Ahead

Pairing: Ryan/Calleigh

Summery: After Ryan is fired from the lab, he struggles to understand what comes next, and with a little help, faces the long road ahead.

A/N: I've been feeling very CaRWashy lately, and decided to write this one up. Please R/R, folks, it'll make my day!

**The Long Road Ahead**

There was something strangely appealing about his job that most ordinary people didn't understand. He understood it; of course, he might as well have imagined it. And he was pretty sure that five other people understood it as well, for he'd gotten to know them better than anyone over the past few years.

He was born to be a cop. Ever since he was young and his parents wished he'd be a lawyer, or a doctor, he knew that his passion lay with chasing criminals and solving crimes and protecting his city from the evil that made it's way through the tough barriers. It was more than a paycheck but a life commitment to establishing the crime line, and to bring justice to those who crossed that line. The lives of the innocent were in his hands.

But Ryan Wolfe never imagined that he'd work in forensics. Graduating Boston College with a degree in genetics, he became a patrol cop after moving to Miami. He pictured himself moving up in the ranks and becoming detective, or Captain of the department in Miami. But when CSI Speedle was killed in action and the need for a CSI became apparent, Ryan knew he'd be able to put his passion as a cop and his educational background in science to better use, and joined Horatio Caine's team at the Miami Crime Lab. He was sure in for a change in scenery.

In three years he had seen enough death and damage and loss to truly understand what pain was. He had cut his fingers up how many times on broken glass at a crime scene? He'd spilled chemicals on his hands in the lab while being clumsy. He'd tripped on the sleek floors of the lab, or at a crime scene, and hit his head. Hundreds of paper cuts from flipping through case files on double shifts, double time. Close calls at crime scenes. The blowfish powder on his hands. The nail in his eye.

And the emotional pain had taken its tole. Seeing hundreds of dead bodies, some raped, tortured, some children, some elderly, had weakened him at first. It was hard to imagine these bodies as people, people with families and lives and feelings, but when he did, it hurt. He'd seen the team grieve over Speedle, seen Calleigh suffer through Hagen's suicide, seen Horatio and Eric struggle over Marisol's confusing death, seen Eric recover from his gunshot wound to the head. He'd been involved in cases where no one on the team was safe, and any moment could be their last. He lived with uneasiness, his life on the edge, struggling each day to appreciate what he had.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

There was something about the stillness of a lab, the hum of machines processing evidence, the feel of locking away a killer after a long and tough interrogation that made him feel at ease. The cool air conditioning and the clean equipment, the approving looks of his teammates, the laughs the team shared in the warm and cozy break room, how the walls were literally made of glass and there wasn't such a thing as secrets…it made a home for Ryan. It helped get past the fact that it was a crime lab and the building existed because people killed other people.

Horatio, Calleigh, Eric, Alexx and Natalia were his family. In three years Ryan had grown closer to them than any girl or friend at school, than his own family back in Boston. They reminded him that he was always safe, that they had his back in tough spots. They gave him the care and encouragement to continue his work when he stumbled, and helped him gain the self-confidence to feel at home. He had grown tremendously as a person since joining MDPD, and knew that this, forensics, being a CSI alongside this team, was his true calling, and that this is what he wanted to do for the rest of his life.

And then he went and got himself fired.

He'd said he'd never do it again. He though to himself, _if this is what I'll be putting at stake, there's no way in hell I'd ever risk it. _He even felt it inside himself, that he was stronger than that. He was a professional, a perfectionist of a man with OCD who wanted his life in order. He had an amazing job, incredible friends, and his future spread out in front of him on a silver platter. The life he had worked hard to accomplish, he had finally found himself happy, and then he messed it all up, everything up.

Gambling had always been tempting to him. He hadn't smoked, hadn't ever done drugs, and didn't have much of a stomach for alcohol, but he found his downfall with spending up life-savings in one night. It changed him, too. He forgot everything and got caught up in the rush, made hasty decisions where he didn't consider the consequences and how it would affect others, the people he cared about. He became selfish.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Mr. Wolfe?"

He had his chance, too. He sort of knew that Horatio had found out all along, but he thought he could wage this battle on his own. That he didn't need help. He didn't want to put a burden on Horatio, didn't want to seem weak. He couldn't admit that he had screwed up.

"No, H." He tugged on his ear, his nervous habit. "Nothing."

He had looked back as he exited MDPD, his heart tugging at his chest. _Don't cry. You have some dignity left. _Pfft, dignity. He had shown his weak side already. Crying might have even been a good thing, proving that he was still goofy little Ryan and not this twisted, sick, selfish monster that had just been fired. He _was_ crushed. And when he saw Horatio looking back at him, a sad, empty look on his face, Ryan felt even worse. Not only had he let himself down, but the integrity of the lab, each victim whose case he had solved, and those who he loved most. _Please don't hate me…_

They had ever right to. They'd all welcomed him into their family and made him feel at home. They were the reasons he loved his job so much, the reason he had any life in Miami at all. They put their faith in him, trained him, taught him everything he knew. They took baby steps, were patient as he learned his way around the lab, and became his friends. They were his world. They were the reason he got out of _bed_ in the morning.

_Oh, God…_

He had screwed up. Ryan had screwed up big time, and he wasn't sure that he would get a second chance. Part of him said that Horatio would get him his job back, and yet part of him, the part that weighed him down and caused him to wake up crying every morning, said that he had ruined it, and it was all over.

Ryan wasn't weak, it wasn't that. He knew he was a strong guy, but his emotions were showing through. The late nights alone at home, when he imagined the team out at the bar, laughing and enjoying the end of a long, tough week. Waking up at noon with nowhere to for. Forgetting to shave for a few days and then realizing that he _didn't have to._ Not receiving his paycheck every Thursday. Trying to remember what his teammates sounded like and almost wishing he could hear Stetler calling him in after a screw-up at a crime scene. Becoming captivated by the fact that the refrigerator hummed just like the machines at the lab. The ache to take a picture, swab someone for DNA, clear a crime scene. The sound of a siren around the corner of his apartment. Having nothing to do all day, watching so much TV that his eyes hurt, feeling so _useless._

He was falling apart.

Each day that passed felt like a month. There wasn't much to do except for stock up on groceries and clean the house, which got old eventually even for OCD-ridden Ryan. He would sit on his couch staring into space for hours. Watch the clock, as if _it_ would help him get his job back. Crying himself to sleep at night. He never looked at the ads in the paper because he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything but be a cop; it would be worse than this. No one visited or called him. Half of him felt like they didn't care, but he knew they did. They didn't know what to say to him. He didn't know what to say for himself.

He would wait by the phone for Horatio to call. _Ryan? Yes. It's Horatio. You start again tomorrow morning._

_You wish, Wolfe._

And then there was _her_. The whole lab had been there for him, but he had worked his first case with her. She treated him like an equal, not a rookie. The look on her face when he cracked the case and her dad was set free…his heart grew wings. He still smiled thinking about it. Oh, God, she was beautiful. Every ounce of her was gorgeous, from her silky hair to her smooth legs, or which he got glimpses of now and then, when she decided on shorter pants. The way she laughed, the way she could brighten anyone's day with her contagious smile. How could anyone _not _love Calleigh Duquesne?

He had trashed any relationship they might have had, lost all respect she had had for him. What was left now? Was she angry? Sad? Confused? Disappointed?

He hoped she wasn't disappointed, that she didn't feel let down by him. She had given him the tools he needed, and had made him who he was, and then he had shown her that all of that was worthless as long as he could just play this game _one more time._

He prayed she didn't feel that way. Even though he had been an idiot, he had no intentions of hurting her. In fact, she had nothing to do with it. He wasn't sure where it came from, but he knew that there was no way Calleigh; sweet, beautiful Calleigh had been in his thoughts as he threw his life in the garbage. He knew that she would have brought him back to reality, that he cared for her more than anything else in the world.

_Yeah, now tell her that, you_ idiot.

_Tell her how much you're in _love _with her._

Two weeks after being fired, Ryan saw her. He was at the grocery store late at night stocking up for dinner and there she was. She was in the produce section, her delicate fingers gliding through all the different meats. She was dressed in black, as usual; her curves especially beautiful in her tight cropped pants. She still had her belt on, and had her gun and badge with her, even though she was off-duty. He knew she would take it home with her. He smiled. Calleigh and her guns.

He was lost. He wanted to see her, to talk to her again, but he didn't know what she would say. If she would be angry with him. He didn't trust himself and what he would say, either, because he didn't even have an explanation for what he had done. He knew it was stupid and wrong, but why… he had no idea.

"Hey Cal."

He managed to make it up behind her, based purely on his eagerness to see her. Being away from the team for so long had caused him to understand how much he really did love them, especially her, and he was sure of this connection they had established. Everything he said was said in the confidence that she, and the whole team, wouldn't judge him based on it, and would be there for him if he wanted to talk about it. He was _always_ sure of their undying care for him and his care for them, no matter what. And especially so with Calleigh. He could let go and be himself with her. He couldn't describe the feeling he got while they were together. He might talk with Horatio for thirty minutes and be able to recall the stiff, nervous conversation but with Calleigh, he was so carefree that he wouldn't remember what they were talking about five minutes into a chat. His protective shell came off and he was purely goofy Ryan.

She turned around, her beautiful blonde hair flipping across her back. The look on her face wasn't definitive… he couldn't place it. It was somewhere between a smile, a look of sympathy, some anger, and a whole lot of confusion.

They stood there for a few minutes, taking each other in. He had gained a few pounds since leaving the lab due to no exercise, and an excess of food. Being stuck at home for the whole day tempted the stomach. Ryan had heard somewhere that going through rough, emotional situations could cause what was called 'emotional-eating.' Pregnant women did it; Ryan Wolfe did it.

He hadn't been shaving either, and he had stubble all around his jaw line. His hair was untidy, and his usual crisp outfit was swapped for loose jeans, flip-flops, and a wrinkled button down over a t-shirt. He kept reaching in his pockets for something to twiddle his fingers around. She smiled. Even with his untidy look and so long away from his environment, his OCD had come through.

But she was hurt, and he could tell. People roamed the grocery store around them, but they were locked in their own worlds, and everything they had been feeling for the past two weeks was showing. His anger at himself, self-doubt, embarrassment, longing, and loneliness. Her confusion, anger, sadness, and the little pain in her heart that told her she missed him. He could see it on her face. Her smile was weakening, and she wasn't so much the Calleigh he had known for three years any more. That was the thing. She was more Calleigh than she had ever been.

"I'm sorr-"

"Why?"

Her voice was as soft as a whisper, but it stung his ears, and echoed. It was filled with hurt, and a smallness that he had never seen in Calleigh. She was tough and independent, that southern bell. It hurt him even more to witness how what _he_ had done was affecting _her. _Why? Why had he thrown his life away? He wasn't sure of this either. It seemed that Ryan wasn't sure of _anything_ anymore.

He hung his head low.

"You have to have an answer. I haven't suffered through two weeks of pain for nothing from you."

There she was again. Hardcore, pissed off Calleigh. It wasn't nearly as bad as her hurt side; he'd rather have her angry than sad. Ryan would rather have her so angry that she never wanted to see him again than have her feel one ounce of what he knew he had put her through.

"I messed up-"

She rolled her eyes. "Now, _really?_ 'Cause see, I wasn't so sure."

"Cal-"

"Don't 'Cal' me. You promised me, Ryan. You told me that it was over, that you were done with it."

"I know."

That made it so much worse, that she remembered. He had already involved her with his gambling problems once before after he paid her back with counterfeit money. She had warned him about gambling and he had promised her he would never step foot into those waters again.

_Nice going, dumbass._

"I don't know what to say."

Calleigh looked at him for a few painful seconds. "Then let me finish my shopping." She sidestepped Ryan and made her way down the aisle.

"No, Cal, wait-"

He grabbed her arm as she was leaving. He couldn't let her go. There were so many things he wanted to say, but wasn't sure how to say them. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was. How he wasn't thinking, how he never wanted to hurt her. How he knew he needed help, and that he understood the fact that he had a problem he needed to deal with. His promise to her wasn't a lie, but him thinking he was strong enough to beat it on his own, while in truth, he wasn't. How much he appreciated her, how much he cared about her and how he wasn't going to give up on her and the entire team.

His voice was weak, barely a whisper.

"Don't give up on me."

She stared at him, at his big eyes, tears threatening to fall. He was conflicted, torn. He needed help, she realized. She also knew that he was a strong person, and that even the strongest had to ask for help. Ryan was her friend and colleague. She had respect for him, and admiration. Admiration bordering on love, true love that went beyond the relationship she had with Eric or Horatio or Alexx. She realized she had always loved him, and it had taken these two weeks without him there with her for Calleigh to grasp this. No matter what it took, she knew she wanted to be by his side. It was a long road ahead, but she was willing to take it. She took his hand.

"I won't."


End file.
